19 People per Square Kilometer
by anacsadder
Summary: The MutantRegistrationAct is passed in the US. As a result, many fugitive mutants are fleeing over the border into Canada. Currently: Francis, Misery, Nell, Sage, Shiv, Skinner
1. Unfortunate Travel Buddies

FROM AUTHOR TO READER (FATR): I have a score of stories over on the Spider-Man section. This is the first one I've posted here. It's actually a coauthored fic that I'm working on with Sage. Actually, it's more like her version of RPGs. We take turns writing sections for the characters we control. Let's see... Carrie is property of Sage. I don't have any stake whatsoever is Sobe, aside from enjoying the occasional refreshing Lizard Blizzard on a hot day. I don't own Francis "F-Stop/Hotstreak" Stone, either, nor do I own Shiv, nor Talon. Heehee, if I owned Francis, he'd be chained up by my computer right now, wearing one of those power suppressing collars like in Ultimate Spider-Man Volume Nine. ANY-hoo, enjoy the first chip chip...

#)X(#

They had been driving aimlessly for two days now. Two days in a small car with Shiv was not something Francis would have signed on for willingly. However, under the circumstances, both of them had little choice. Francis could have kicked Shiv out at the nearest rest stop, would have, if he hadn't been worried he would be picked up by the cops. No, no, it wasn't about any compassion. Shiv, loose cannon that he was, might tell the cops something about Francis. It was self preservation.

"Cows! Cows!" Shiv pressed his face against the glass. "Look, it's a calf! F-Stop, look! You're not looking!"

"That's because I'm driving," Francis growled.

Shiv ignored this as he rolled down the window. He stuck his head out to get a better look, the rather chilly wind ruffling his blue hair. "Moo!" He called, cupping his hands around his mouth in a makeshift megaphone. A sharp tug at the back of his jacket hauled him back into the car.

"You could lose your head that way, you know... On second thought, go ahead. Stick it back out there."

Shiv laughed wildly, missing the malice in his travel buddy's voice. Suddenly thirsty, he stood up and leaned over the back seat to riffle through the contents of the gas station bags. "Hey, wasn't there another Sobe back here some where?"

Francis glanced at the passenger side. All he could see were black jean clad legs, the coat hanging down to Shiv's knees. A rather passive aggressive plot formed in his head. Francis slammed on the breaks. Shiv tumbled into the back seat and the cars behind Francis honked angrily.

"What happened?" Shiv asked, face popping up between the seats.

"There was a cow crossing the road," Francis lied.

"Oh. Well, it's clear now. Hey, you want anything while I'm back here?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Hey, asshole! What's the hold up!" Someone in a car behind them leaned out the window to scream.

Francis smirked and the car behind them began to smoke imperceptibly. He sped off quickly. As soon as the car behind him punched the gas, it disappeared in ball of fire.

Just far enough to be unaware of this explosion, Carol Annmore often known as Carrie, stood cursing her sister and husband by the side of the road. The former had caused the trouble; the second had convinced her that it would be wrong to allow him to become involved. She had agreed, forgotten the cell, skidded through a patch of ice in order to avoid a dyslexic cow, and was now stranded. God damn.

"Hey, what's that?" Shiv asked around a mouthful of snickers. He was still in the back seat.

"Let's play a game," Francis offered without looking at Shiv.

"Do you mean that?" Shiv had been trying to start a game since the drive had begun. He had been cruelly shot down at every suggestion, though he wouldn't let it break his spirit.

"Sure. It's called the quiet game. When I say go, we both see who can stay quiet the longest. Ready?"

"Wait, what if I have to sneeze?"

"You can sneeze. Ready?" He didn't wait for Shiv to answer this time. "Go."

There were a couple minutes of blessed silence, then. However, as they reached the top of a hill, they spied a car broken down by the side of the road. Francis was going to pass it by, but Shiv leaned forward between the seats. "Hey, slow down. What if she needs help?"

"We're supposed to be laying low, remember?" Never mind that the pyro had just blown up a car. "And you just lost the game." Besides, something about the woman struck the seventeen-year-old as rather unpleasant.

"Come on! Comeoncomeoncomeon! Please? I'm soooo bored!"

Francis gritted his teeth. "Fine, but only to shut you up." He slowed down, passed the car, and eased off onto the shoulder in front of it. Francis stopped the car, cursing his travel partner. God, even Talon would have proved a better travel partner.

Carrie stepped over to the first link in the new chain of events, carefully enough, but still pissed like a bear; poor luck for the family, if she'd catch up. "Hullo?"

Francis stayed in the car, cursing water and everything related to it. This included ice and snow...

Shiv climbed over the front seat and out the window, not even bothering with the door. "Hey, lady, need some help?" He asked, grinning his trademark cheshire cat grin.

She nodded, enthusiastic. "Yes, please!" There was a gesture towards her car, and the sad state it was in. "You see, I've got to catch up with my sister, she took my car so I had to borrow my husbands but I need to catch up with her anyways before she does something completely uncalled forthat's always been Nell, you understand, she just won't function normallyand wrecks the chances we have of finally selling the damned old thing but she's too far ahead and it's like I'll neverevengetclosetocatchingUP..." The words had sped up and bled together; finishing, Carrie sighed deeply and rubbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry. Tensions over an inheritance."

"Eh, we'll give you a ride, right?"

Francis made a whatever gesture at Shiv, clearly not pleased with the whole idea.

"Awesome!" Shiv started to climb back through the window.

"Use. The. Door. You. Freak." Francis kept his voice low so the woman couldn't hear the annoyed words.

Shiv shrugged and opened the front door. Almost as an afterthought, he turned to the woman and bowed slightly. "Would you like a lift?"

Smiling and plotting some form of revenge or another against her remaining immediate family, Carol nodded. "Thank you. I don't suppose you're going far north?"

"How far north?" Francis asked as Shiv, leaving the front seat to their 'guest,' bounced into the back seat behind his crimson haired friend.

"A decent ways into Canada; I suppose my sister's already into Manitoba by now..."

"Canada..." Francis had never thought of this before. And why ever not? There was no goddam mutant registration law in Canada... "Sure. We'll take you to Canada." Though getting through the border would be difficult. Too bad there wasn't much time to prepare. No matter, he'd burn that bridge when he came to it... or something to that effect.

"What's your name, anyway?" Shiv asked as Francis eased back onto the road.

"Carrie Vance; very pleased to meet you. That's great of you; it's so hard to find anyone willing to do something for someone else..." Despite that, caring for their mother had always been her sister's job. "And you two?"

"He's Fr-"

"Frankie," Francis jumped in. "And he's... Steven." He shot Shiv a pointed look via the rearview mirror.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Vance," Shiv grinned and extended his hand to her.

"What business is it, exactly, that takes you to Canada?" Francis asked to divert the conversation away from him and his companion.

She shook. "Only finding my sister, and seeing to it that she can't get enough of the inheritance to mistreat it and see it all roont; She can't be trusted to handle things." Carrie went on, explaining how her sister sometimes refused to do the things the proper way, the acceptable wayCarrie's way, in other words. She went on for quite some time.

Francis felt his body temperature beginning to rise. This was worse than Shiv's jabber. Yet Shiv seemed to be eating it up. Francis tightened his grip on the wheel, trying to keep his cool, as it were. He felt the plastic give a little beneath his hot fingers.

"What is the inheritance, if you don't mind my asking?" Shiv asked, cocking his head. Francis was never this talkative.

"A number of things; paintings, property, investments..." She shrugged. But fate smiled on Francis a little; the older Vance noted a small gas station. "...Could we stop here? There are a few things I ought to pick up."

"Of course." The pyro suppressed his devious grin.

"Hey, there could be a phone, too," Shiv suggested.

"Maybe." Francis personally didn't care whether there was a phone or not. He would never listen to Shiv ever again. Never. He parked out front of the little store.

Carrie hurried in, not looking back.

Francis waited for her to disappear inside then backed out as quickly as he could without calling attention to himself.

"What are you doing?" Shiv asked.

"Getting the fuck out of dodge," Francis growled. He merged with the traffic, every foot he put between himself and that woman cooling his flaring temper. "Now that we have more time to prepare, how do you suppose we get across the border?"

"We could get fake Ids."

"We have no money, and I doubt it would be safe for us to talk to just anyone. Who knows how far this mutant hatred goes."


	2. First of Seven

FATR: Okay, Skinner makes his first appearance here. He's the Invisible Man, in case no one knows. History isn't exactly relevant, so don't worry if you don't know who he is. All you need to know is that he was a petty thief who stole this serum that made him invisible. Now he can't turn back. Heehee, more Francis tormentation in this chip chip. I love tormenting my favorite characters. Don't worry, all you F-Stop fans, Shiv will be plenty tormented as well, though Shiv takes it much better than Francis. I don't own anything related to the Invisible Man, I don't own anything related to Static Shock. The idea of symbiotes is property of Spider-Man and his posse. Though, Misery in an OC symbiote and Sage is, well, Sage. Hm... I don't own Donnie Darko or anything related to it. I don't own poptarts. I did not invent the cupcake. I'm working on adding Francis to my collection of fangirl obsession sex slaves, but the legal issues are still being straightened out. I'll keep you posted. ANY-hoo, on with the chip chip!

X)O(X

Eleanor Vance had spent the morning cleaning her lions; they were something to be proud of, stone sprawled to either sigh of the large fireplace in the north side's common rooms; cleaning the lions, and ignoring the phone which buzzed at her so constantly, her sister's husband calling to see if she was there yet. She wouldn't be, shouldn't be. Smiling the the thought of this, Nell raised the washcloth to wipe the last suds away from the right's mane, humming. Wouldn't be, shouldn't be; lovely phrases. And even if Carrie would... _Why, she thought, even is Carrie would, the lions I have taken such careful care of will care for me, and with a crackling as their outer stone breaks away, and maybe, just maybe, they will go after Carol as if they had wings, and I and the lions will stay._

Outside, a strange phenomenon was taking place. There were footprints tracing their way at a running pace across the powdery snow. No ordinary foot prints, mind you. Disembodied footprints. Rodney Skinner, the Invisible Man, had been forced to dump his coat, hat, glasses, and all else that made him visible, at the Canadian border. Now all, _all_, of his extremities had gone numb. In fact, being invisible, he often wondered if they were still really there. His sprint faltered a couple times as he slowed to pat down his body, just to make sure. As he neared what appeared to be a small ski lodge, he began wondering how best to proceed with the occupants. Should he sneak in somehow, or should he try communicating? Glancing around as he reached the porch, he took in the desolation of the place. Hm... well, he would try talking. If nothing else, it would provide some much needed amusement. He proceeded straight to the door and knocked boldly. As he waited for an answer, he hugged himself, rubbed his upper arms, and hopped from bare foot to bare foot in an effort to stay warm.

Nell stepped away from her lions, listening. Waitthere it was again, the knocking. The roads were getting closer and closer to closing, and she had had a fair lead from Carrie, so what was that? _Perhaps it is the Wendigo, _she thought, laughing and moving to the door. Spirit of the winds and snows and chillsand cannabalismcome to settle in to the kitchens, an arrangement which could prove quite useful if the lions could only eat so much... The planked door was gradually tugged open, and Eleanor stepped back, blinking, half-expecting a snowy claw to be reaching for her. _Really, Eleanor! _She scolded herself. _Really!_

"Greetings, darling. I hope you won't mind my appearance, but I've been hit by a string of unfortunate luck."

This might've prompted an exclamation from one more likely to recognize daily oddities instead of seeing such things (or not seeing them) as occurrences which were possible at any time (they were) as stranger things had happened before (they had). "Seems like we've all been. Please, come in, Mr...?"

"Skinner. Rodney Skinner. If I had a hat I'd tip it to you. I did once," he added as he stepped greatfully into the warm room. "I don't suppose you might have some warm clothes or a blanket? I've been running about in the snow naked for more hours than I'd care to count."

"Eleanor Vance." She nodded in what she hoped to be the right direction. "I can find some in a moment; meanwhile, there's a fire in the room to the left of the end of the foyer. So, just a minute..."Around a corner and down a small, narrow flight of stairs, to one of the storage rooms.

Skinner made his way into the aforementioned room and positioned himself on one of the plushy chairs, scooting it just a bit closer to the blaze. He propped his feet up on the hearth and held a pillow in his lap so that Ms. Vance might be able to easier located him. Then he fell into contemplating what course of action to take next.

Nellie, admirable even through her own world about her, soon returned with one of the first and best finds; a large pair of pajamas, white and brown, of material which couldn't seem to decide whether it wished to be a fleece or a flannel. These were ligthly tossed to land on the held pillow. "There you go." And my, wouldn't Carrie scream? (Not that she wasn't right now, but that was a different story in and of itself.)

"Thank you very much, my dear Ms. Vance." Skinner stood and stepped into the pajama pants. What an odd sight to see, each cloth leg magically filling with an invisible leg. Once on, the pajama pants drifted, suspended in mid air. The top flew up into the invisible hands and was soon filled out with the invisible arms and torso. Settling back into the chair, he propped his feet back up and looked around. "Lovely place. Little empty, though, isn't it?"

She smiled, and laughed a little. "Just Nell, please. And you're quite welcome; I could use the company. Even when this chateau was active, we didn't see a lot of business, and so didn't have a very long season... But I've kept it ready for a full load, year round, regardless. But it is beautiful, despite the hollow. I'm very proud of my lions." The lodge's solitary keeper smiled again, before growing serious. "'So it had stood for some eighty years, and so it might stand for eighty more; within, wall continued upright, floors were firm, bricks met neatly and doors were sensibly shut. Silence lay against the wood and stone.'"

"Nell," the invisible man nodded and smiled, though she couldn't see the nod exactly, the smile was evident in his tone of voice. Skinner took a moment to admire the lions. "Right you are to be proud of the lions. They're wonderful pieces of work." He fell into a contemplative silence once more. "Tell me, though, is the season over for the year?"

"Oh, it has been for some time." She nodded. "Maybe from now on; why, would you plan to stay a while?"

"Hm... If it's not an intrusion, I plan on staying for quite some time. At present, you see, I'm quite out of options..." Here he habitually cast her a rather pleading look before catching himself. All this time and certain emotions still insisted on showing themselves physically.

Eleanor was visibly startled at the thought that she'd turn someone away, and strove with an almost childish sincerity for the idea to banished. "Of course it's not! You certainly stay as long as you like; I plan to stay as long as I possibly can; I wouldn't discourage anyone else from doing the same!"

Again, though the smile was not visible it was quite apparent in his voice. There was also a significant amount of relief. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, my dear Nell. I haven't been accepted so civilly in a long time."

"Haven't had company to accept, and I know what it's like to be stuck in a box." Eleanor shrugged. "Or to be fettered; it's recently the place is mine."

X)O(X

Shiv stared straight out the front window in the oppressive silence. About half an hour after ditching the lady at the gas station, they had traded so that Francis could rest. He had promised, not threatened but promised, that if Shiv disturbed him he would live just long enough to regret ever being born. That had been an hour ago. Shiv had gone to turn on the radio once but Francis had growled at him. He didn't know if the hot head had really directed it at him (Francis' eyes had remained closed) but had decided not to push the issue. That guy really needed some anger management therapy. Seriously... Shiv's attention drifted out and he continued along on auto pilot.

_**Sage? Sagesagesagesagesage! **_

_**Yeah, yeah, I see it. Or them**. **Whoever 'they' are**. _Sighing, the Wee One waved to try and flag down the car, duffel bag at her feet. It contained books, mostly: books and her pillow and toiletries and little else; it was nice not having to pack clothes. **_Let's hope for a little luck..._**"C'mon, CK, if you can hear me now..."

Movement caught Shiv's eye. He slowed down as he approached the hitchhiker. He contemplated Francis' earlier warnings briefly before dismissing them all together. It had been a goddammed hour and Shiv was officially bored. Francis didn't matter anymore. He stopped the car a little ways back behind the black-clad figure, got out quietly, and took a couple steps towards her. From a distance, her size had given her the appearance of being very young, but now she looked like a short teenager, only maybe two years younger than him and Francis.

The bag was lifted and Sage scampered for the car, hopeful. "Hey, lo!" **_Now, this time, you really gotta behave, alright? _**God, to get back to sparsely populated, flat, and quiet land...

"Name and destination?" Shiv asked.

_**His hair's blue! Look! It's...**_

"Sage; anywhere north of the border. Seriously? Thanks, man!" She clambered into the car as quietly as possible, noting Francis.** _I know; it's swank_. **"Like your hair."

Shiv ran his fingers through it as he climbed back into the driver's seat, the idiot grin making an appearance (though it rarely ever left, really). "I do too." He closed the door. "Welcome to the Canadian Express, your non-stop service across the border. Please keep hands, arms, legs, feet, and heads as the case may be in the car at all times. Make sure you fasten your seat belt before take off and store all luggage on the floor beside you. In the event of a collision, stick your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye. Questions? Comments? Personal anecdotes?"

"Sure. Who do I have the pleasure of travelling with? I'm so glad to find decent peeps to hitch with it's not even funny, and beware of hooker bigfeet."

"People call me Shiv," the blue-haired man answered. "My buddy'll have to tell you when he wakes up because I'm not sure what he wants to be called now-a-days. He goes by at least three different names. What business do you have in Canada, anyway?"

Misery contemplated the sleeping one._ **I thought underwear went under clothing. That is what you told me. Why can we not wear bras on top of clothing? I think a blue bra over a black tank top would look cool. Or are underpants the only undergarment allowed to show? Is it not cold for that, anyway? Huh...**_

Sage smiled. "Alright; Nice to meet you. You first?" **_It does, and bras are too obvious; usually it's only the waistline of gitch showing, and I'm not sure why. It's not too cold, but that could just be me._**

With Francis out of commission, there was nothing to keep Shiv in check. "Fleeing across the border," he laughed. "And you?"

_**That is not just waistline. That is, like, six inches of underwear at least. And why a belt? Are not belts intended to hold pants up? Though pants that loose would probably fall straight down as soon as the wearer stands in absence of a belt. Boys are weird.**_

"The same. Or, rather, fleeing back, but it still comes to the same." She grinned, at both conversations. "Alright, here's my guess; you're co-leading a secret Amish smuggling circle to get organs on the Guatemalan black market, the goods being sent packaged in coolers in the innards of angry goats and llamas." _**Yeah, they are**._

Shiv actually stopped to consider this. "That'd be a really big goat," he finally decided. "Before... was that a hooker with big feet or big foot as a hooker? Or were you saying hookers have big feet and I should look out for any and all big feet?"

"No, Bigfoot as a hooker; nothing that hairy belongs in fishnets."

"You should see some of the Bang Babies. Man, there was this one chick, kinda cute, but she turned into the biggest, ugliest, stinkiest beast I have ever seen. I mean, she rivalled Carmen Dillo in stench, Hyde in ugliness, and Slip Stream in size. She was seriously..." He trailed off as Francis stirred slightly. When his travel companion resettled and stilled, Shiv added, "and as impossible as it may seem, she could rival even him in temper."

"Yeah? Damn, that's harsh..." She shrugged, and stretched a bit, glad for the warm car. **_We could cheer once we're over the border... 'Peanut Butter' or 'Cheese Sticks'?_**

Francis growled to himself and shifted again. The voices seemed unnaturally loud in this half awake state. _Damn Shiv, damn him straight to... wait... voices? As in plural? _Awe fuck if that woman was back he might have to commit just one more first degree murder before they left the country. "... Shiv? What the fuck?..." He groaned without opening his eyes.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Shiv responded brightly.

Francis opened his eyes and caught sight of the small figure in the back seat via the review mirror. This time his voice was louder and much clearer. "Shiv? What the fuck?"

**_Shit; he doesn't look cheerful_. **Well, regardless... "Hullo..."

Shiv kept perfectly calm. It was as though he didn't even notice how pissed Francis sounded. "That's my buddy Sage. She's going to Canada, too. Something about smuggling sheep across the border inside angry llamas. Wait, no, that wasn't it... but that would be interesting, wouldn't it? Would have to be a big llama..."

Misery giggled inside her host's head. **_Shiv is funny_.**

"I told you not to pick up anymore. What happened last time?" Francis didn't wait for an answer. "Exactly!"

The idiot grin shrank a bit. "Come on, she's pretty cool once you talk to her for a while..."

Francis clenched his fists to suppress the fire brewing in his fingertips and sighed deeply, trying to compose himself. Smoke curled from his lungs as he did so.

"Look, I swear I won't be a hassle, or in the way; I just need to get across the border, is all, find a reasonable spot to wait things out, alright?" **_Shh, you! Wait, how did sheep get involved all of a sudden? _**Making an effort to remain serious, the Wee One shrugged and continued as disarmingly as possible. "But if it's really a problem..."

"No, no, no, you stay," Shiv answered. "F-Stop here just needs to blow off some steam. The past few days have been rather stressful."

Francis glanced around. "Stop the car," he grumbled.

"Aw, come on, man..." Shiv begged.

"I said stop the goddam car!" Francis' eyes flashed red and Shiv had no choice but to comply.

Shiv glanced apologetically at Sage and shrugged as Francis popped his belt and opened his door.

Francis didn't have a coat and he didn't bother with his shoes. He didn't really need them.

"Come on, man, she's a native. She can help get us in."

"You shut the fuck up and stay the fuck here," Francis snapped as he began walking towards the center of a large, flat, snow covered field.

She shrugged back, but peered out at the frosty landscape. "...dare I even ask?" **_What have you and I gotten ourselves into?_**

**_A car, obviously. The situation at hand is questionable, is it not_?**

"This should be interesting..." Shiv watched the red figure stock across the field. "I wonder how big it's going to be."

**_Sometimes, I still wonder why I even try. _**Sighing at her symbiote, the Wee One sat back to watch the show, whatever it was going to be.

Francis stood still with his head down for a moment. From the car, one would have been too far away to see the flames licking at his body. However, they grew rapidly, consuming him until he was no more than a dark shape amongst the orange and crimson. The flames mounted up in an immense column until, with an outward thrust of his palms, the bonfire exploded outwards like a ripple from a pebble. The heat wave hit the car, causing it to shudder a bit. Fire exploded upwards as well, like a volcano. When the flames cleared, the ground within a three foot radius around Francis was completely snowless and reduced to little more than black soot. The burn color lightened as the circle spread out until it once more faded into snow, though the edge of the ring was about nineteen feet from Francis' location. He pulled down on his shirt, adjusted his khakis so they rested somewhere just over halfway down his butt, and proceeded back the car.

This was observed in silence, with fair admiration for the flames; really that had been kickass. "... so... this makes a little more sense, now..." Not much, but a little; ka's righteously screwed over. Sage made a small opoponax gesture at the empty space and the situation in general, before turning to Shiv. "... and you, my friend? If you don't mind my asking."

Shiv applauded enthusiastically as Francis settled back into his seat. "Sure beats the hell out of punching a pillow."

Francis didn't respond to this. "Shiv never minds anything. He was blasted off the top of a moving train, rolled five feet, and took time to laugh before passing out. Or so I've heard."

"That was freakin awesome," Shiv cackled at the memory. "I make light weapons," Shiv beamed. "And you? Or are you just a plain old llama smuggler?"

"Memories of cheap fair rides?" The fantasist couldn't help but laugh a little, between Shiv's humour and the llama thing snowballing. "Can anyone who manages to smuggle successfully with llamas, and I haven't because I swear those things are out to conquer the world, really be considered plain? I've got a symbiote."

"What does that have to do with wooly llamas?"

Francis made a flicking gesture at Shiv. A spark popped off his thumb and singed Shiv's ear.

"Ow!"

"Don't be an idiot." He looked at Sage in the rearview mirror. "Like Venom?"

_**Heehee! Venom went SPLAT and looked like chocolate pudding!**_

"Like that, kinda, yeah." She nodded a little. "It's a long story..."_ **Made longer by the cupcakes, but even I have to admit that was hilarious...**_

_**CUPCAKES! GLEE! Ask! Ask for cupcakes! Cupcaaaakes!**_

**_No!_ **But she laughed. **_No. We can get some next stop, but until then, shut up about getting more cupcakes, please! Ditto poptarts!_**

"What's funny?" Shiv asked.

_**Well... are we there yet?**_

"She's bothering me to ask for cupcakes, and now whether or not we're there yet." Shaking her head, the Wee One was still smiling. "One of those things that's just completely nuts, you know? And it's like Misery is on a constant sugar high... so it's still taking some getting used to. But she and I manage."

_**Are we there now?**_

"How'd you choose a name like Misery?" Francis asked.

_**I chose! I chose! **_

"She picked it; the book had been mentioned at some point. Kinda fitting, kinda... not. As demonstrated by the whole cupcake thing."

"Cupcake thing?" Shiv asked.

_**Are we there now yet soon please?**_

"I like cupcakes; she adores them. And wants to know if we're going to be there soon."

"Hm..." Francis, elbow on the door handle and chin in hand, scanned a couple of signs. "Close. Maybe forty miles."

_**Yay! Then we can get cupcakes and boomtarts?**_

**_They're poptarts, and probably. Just settle down, alright? _**"Kay."

"We still don't know what to do when we get there," Shiv observed.

Francis scowled, though his eyes remained trained on the passing landscape. "Thank you, captain obvious," he snapped sarcastically. "You think I'm not trying to make a plan?"

Shiv shrugged. "What about you?" He asked, glancing back at their diminutive passenger. "Any ideas?"

Francis sighed. "We should've abducted that one kid... what was his name? He could've made a couple IDs from those fast food napkins you've been saving."

"Lighten up, F-Stop," Shiv responded.

"Actually, I think we might be able to do something..." Considering the options, the use of 'we', usually avoided, went unnoticed. "Either of you have a driver's license on you I could see for a minute or two, maybe?" **_If this works, it's a whole thing of chocolate-chip cupcakes. With rainbow sprinkles, or something, I promise._**

Francis arched his back out of the chair and dug awkwardly in his back pocket. He produced his license and handed it back to the Wee One.

_**The colors, Duke! The colors**! _Misery exclaimed as she took over Sage's arm and snatched the card away enthusiastically. She studied it. It read 'Francis Stone' and the picture looked more like a mug shot than anything else. **_He scowls a lot. Maybe if he did not wear his pants so low..._**

"Thanks."_ **Hey, hey keep it steady and there will be a jar of cherries involved, now as for your part... **_As if it wouldn't already be known.** _... so, yeah. And...?_**

**_Huh? Oh... _**Misery studied the ID and scanned Sage's mind for all the information she could find on the subject. In a matter of seconds, black goo slithered out of her host's fingertips and covered all but the picture on the card. It shimmered for a moment, then sank in. It now read 'Donald Darko,' among some other more technical changes. **_Is that good?_**

**_That was damned creepy to watch, but yes, it is good. Definitely rainbow sprinkles for you, my friend. _**The card was offered back. "Hey, Francis; check it out. Whatcha say?"

"F-Stop," he corrected harshly. "Or Hot Streak. Never," a bit of a growl on this word, "call me Francis." Without looking at her (he'd hardly glanced at her at all since they picked her up, except for in the rearview mirror) he accepted the card and studied it. "... not bad."

"Are you kidding? That's awesome! Do me next!" Shiv dug in the lower pockets of his cargo pants and handed his license to Sage.

**_Maybe after a couple of drinks, _**the perverted symbiote snickered as she set to work on the second ID. **_Let them know I expect these back._**

"Fine, fine..." Despite this, she was grinning at Shiv's enthusiasm and snorted at Misery's comment, accepting the license. **_Yeah, yeah... _**"Gonna want those bits and pieces back after we're through."

"'Course." Shiv took the card back, eager to see his new name. Francis' new name was so cool... "Maximilian Darcy?"

_**Is that not good?**_

_**It's interesting.** _"I shrug at it and its oddity, but hey; what can be said?"

"Only five miles left," Francis pointed out, impatiently.

**_Who do you want to be? _**Misery inquire of her host.

**_Tough choice... Erinyes Alain_.** Long stories; oh well. "Alright."

"Find your zen center," Shiv told Francis in a sagely voice. "Everything will be fine."

Francis snorted dismissively but did make a conscious effort to calm his twitchy nerves. He soon discovered all of his worries were for naught. They usually were. He knew he tended to overreact, but goddammit, he couldn't help it. Why even try? And besides, destructive rampages were fun, and any excuse to go on one was a good excuse. After various questions about fruits and vegetables and a car search (which pissed Francis off because it only served to hold them up) they were on their way. The fake IDs went over without a hitch.

**_I would like them back, now, _**Misery told her host._ **It is unnerving being in pieces. Besides, any longer and I may have to start taking them over as well. It is hard to fight nature, you know.**_

**_Alright. And while I'm sure it would be interesting to see, I'm under the impression that's something to be avoided... That was really cool, though; thanks. _**Glad that the whole crossing had gone smoothly, Sage leaned forward. "Kay, mind giving those back, now? And Shiv; we've crossed a border, what should be declared; cheese sticks or peanut butter?"

"Cheese butter!" Shiv exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, tossing his license back to Sage as he did so.

"Hands on the wheel, dipshit," Francis snarled as he too returned the piece of symbiote her host.

**_Yep, Shiv kicks ass, _**Misery laughed. **_Though the angry one is kind of cute, in a messed up kind of way..._**

"And peanut sticks. Orange koolaid for that matter, too." **_...Somehow, I am not surprised_.**


End file.
